


Sir

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Biting, Bottom Shiro Week 2019, Clothing Destruction, Clothing Kink, Crossdressing, F/M, Gender Play, Legal Pidge, Panties, Podfic Welcome, sir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 13:58:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17427215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Pidge asks Shiro to wear her clothes. Among other things.





	Sir

**Author's Note:**

> The phrase "bitey little gremlin" was stolen, wholesale, from the ever wonderful Letterblade.

Shiro had been pretty sure that the panties wouldn’t fit him.

He was staying the night at Pidge’s place, because the two of them had some kind of… something going on (was there a term for the two of them being more than friends with benefits but not exactly dating?) and she had just… shoved him into her bedroom and told him to put on what she’d laid out on the bed. 

One of her old dresses - it was green, because of course it was, and she’d even included a headband. It didn’t look like the sort of thing that Pidge wore, honestly - it had a bow on it, and the ribbon was green and... was that paisley? 

Still, she’d told him to get dressed, and who was he to argue with her? 

So he pulled the panties up over his legs (her asking him to shave his legs made a bit more sense now, come to think of it), and then he pulled the dress up and over his head, although if he moved his shoulders too vigorously he’d probably rip the whole thing. She hadn’t seemed too attached to the dress, at least. There were even socks - long grey socks, which he carefully rolled up his legs - they must have been thigh highs on Pidge, but they barely came up to his knees. 

The panties barely held all of him - his balls were trying to escape through the leg holes, and the front of it bulged with his cock. He was already getting hard - anticipation? Nerves? Some exciting combination thereof?

f

He licked his lips, looking at himself in the mirror. At least he didn’t look too weird, right? A little fetishy, true, but was it possible to wear a tiny dress and a pair of panties without looking fetishy? The hem of the dress barely covered his ass, and the panties were pale green, spotted with blue polka dots. 

He stepped out of the bedroom, to find… Pidge sitting on the couch, wearing his pants. She’d cinched the belt, but they were still so baggy that they drooped dangerously when she stood up. They drooped enough that he could see the waistband of his boxers as well, peeking up. Probably from the last time he’d stayed over, and left his laundry in her hamper. 

“Why are you wearing my clothes?” Shiro wanted to cross his arms, but the stitches of the dress creaked dangerously. 

“Well,” said Pidge, “since you’re wearing my stuff, I figured it’d be only fair.” 

Shiro snorted, taking careful steps towards her, and she looked him up and down, licking her lips. She wasn’t even being _subtle_ about her letching. Not that Shiro was complaining. There was something satisfying about being letched on by someone so appreciative. 

Pidge was swaggering towards him - although at least some of the swagger was just to keep his pants on her hips. “That doesn’t fit you,” she told him, from the vicinity of his collarbone.

“Well, yes,” said Shiro. “Why aren’t you wearing my shirt, too?” 

“It’s more like a dress on me,” said Pidge. “You don’t like me in this shirt?” She was wearing a white tank top, which showed off the lean muscles of her arms. She wasn’t wearing a bra either, and her breasts jiggled a bit when she leaned back to look at him, licking her lips. 

“I do like you in that shirt,” said Shiro, and he letched back at her, his eyes going up and down her body. “What would you like from me, then?”

“Sir,” she said, and she smiled at him, a wide, shit eating grin. “Call me sir.”

“Of course, sir,” said Shiro, and he looked her up and down. The baggy clothes weren’t doing her any favors, but they weren’t taking any away, either. 

“Spin for me,” said Pidge, still looking him up and down. 

Shiro took a step back, and he gave her a little spin - the skirt rose up, and the panties were visible, no doubt. The air was cool against his upper thighs. 

“Oh my,” said Pidge, moving closer to him, until her hand was on his thigh, “but that is a _very_ short skirt.”

“It is, isn’t it? Sir?” Shiro’s hand went to the hem of it, rubbing it between two fingers. His prosthetic rested against his thigh, and he tapped them at random, nervous energy jittering through him. His cock was already hard, pre-come soaking into the thinc otton. 

“I should check how it looks when you sit down,” said Pidge. “Sit down. Right there, on the couch.” 

“Yes, sir,” said Shiro, and he took careful steps, sitting down on the couch. He considered pressing his knees together, then smirked, and let them drift open. The skirt rode up around his thighs, almost to his waist, and he leaned back - there was a ripping sound, and some of the tightness in his shoulders lessened. _That’s the end of this dress,_ flashed through his head, and then Pidge was on him. 

He didn’t even get a chance to blink - one minute she was looking at him, the next, she was straddling him. Her hands were in his hair, her mouth was on his mouth, and she was grinding forward, her hips rolling. The pants were already falling, halfway down her ass, and her shirt was riding up around her belly. 

Shiro’s hands went to her hips, and he squeezed them, his fingers pressing down on the warmth of her waist. “Oh, sir,” Shiro said, putting on something like a coy voice. Not that he could be coy, even if he tried. That ship had sailed a long time ago. 

Still. 

“You’re very pretty,” said Pidge, and her hands were on his chest, squeezing his pectorals. “Look at you. I’ve been looking at you, you’re so very pretty.”

Shiro pulled back, raised an eyebrow. “Really?” He used his normal voice now. “Pretty?”

“Shut up,” Pidge grumbled. “I lose some of my eloquence when I’m horny.”

“And I take it you’re horny right now?” Shiro’s hands slid down, to cup her ass, squeezing it. 

She arched into it, and then the hand in his hair pulled his head back, forcing him to look her in the face. The headband was knocked off to the side. “You’re one to talk, sweetheart,” she said, and she was pitching her voice lower. “I can feel how wet you are.” She ground her hips forward again, pressing the zipper of her jeans up against the front of the panties. Right against Shiro’s cock. 

Shiro hissed. “Well,” he said, “I can feel how hard you are, sir. I bet you want -”

“I want to fuck that sweet pussy of yours,” said Pidge, and she had her mouth right by Shiro’s ear. “I want to sink in and feel you. That’s what I want.” She rolled her hips again, and Shiro groaned, his face red. 

He was… he was so horny he was leaking, and every one of his nerves seemed to be on fire. She was pressing closer, her breasts soft against his chest. He really _was_ wet, god, all because this girl who he could have broken over his knee was controlling him like this. 

He’d jump off the building if she asked him right now, and that was a scary thought. His heart was beating very fast in his chest, and she pressed a hand against it, squeezing it. 

“You doing okay?” Pidge made eye contact, and her expression was searching.

“I’m great,” Shiro promised. “It’s just… you feel so _hard_ , sir, and so big. I don’t know if you’ll fit.”

Pidge’s face split into a grin, and she fumbled herself off of his lap, nearly tripping on his pants. “You know it’ll fit, honey,” she crooned, and then she was unbuckling her pants, letting them fall down and puddle around her feet. 

Shiro burst out laughing - he couldn’t help it. Pidge looked faintly surprised and nonplussed. She gave him a Look. “Quite, you.”

“Yes, sir,” Shiro said, demure.

“Let me see that pussy,” said Pidge, and she was shimmying out of his boxers now - the light caught the wetness on her pussy. God, but he wanted to put his face there.

“Yes, sir,” said Shiro, and he lifted the skirt up slowly, almost carefully, baring first his thighs, then the front of the panties, his erection straining against it. “Do you like what you see, sir?”

“I can see how wet you are,” said Pidge, and she grabbed his hand, shoving it between her legs. 

He squeezed her, his thumb passing over her clit, his fingers tracing over her labia, then moving between them, to swirl over her hole. “I can feel how hard you are, sir,” he said, and then he groaned, as she ground her hips forward, into his hand. “Are you going to fuck me with it?”

“Oh, I am,” said Pidge. “I’m going to rip your panties open.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow, his expression going rueful. “Are you?”

“Yes,” said Pidge, and then her hands were covering his, taking them off of her pussy, rest on the waistband of the panties. “ _I_ am.” 

“Of course,” Shiro said, his voice deadpan, and then he grabbed the waistband, ripping them open. His cock sprang forward, pressing against his belly, and drooling down his shaft. It was puddling in his pubic hair, soaking into the piled up fabric of the skirt, where it was bunched up on his belly. 

“Look at how hard I am,” Pidge said, and she sounded almost reverent. As close to reverent as she ever got, when she wasn’t up to her elbows in robot guts.

“So hard,” Shiro agreed. “Are you going to put it in me?” He was starting to tremble. How about that. He was having a whole bunch of feelings, and he didn’t entirely understand them all. 

Oh well. 

Something to worry about another time, because Pidge was straddling him again, and she was grabbing the shaft of his cock amongst the rags of his ripped panties, pressing the head of his cock against her clit. Shiro hissed - she was hot and wet, slick against his shaft. It was taking effort not to hump into her hand, against her pussy. 

“You’re so warm,” Shiro said. “You’re so… you’ve got a very wonderful… your cock.” His voice cracked. 

“You like this hard, hot cock?” Pidge’s voice was breathy.

“I do,” Shiro said. “Please. I want it, so badly.” He was humping into her pussy, into her hand. It was almost like fucking her thighs, except… not, because there was her hand, bony and solid against him. 

“Beg me,” Pidge said. Her forehead was against his now, and his fingers were digging into her hips. She was possibly going to be bruised - Pidge always bruised like a peach. 

“Please, sir,” Shiro said. “Please. I want your cock so badly. I want to feel it inside me.”

“More than anything?” She nipped at his cheek - Pidge didn’t like kissing, but sometimes she just wanted to do things with her mouth. As long as she didn’t leave him too marked up, Shiro wasn't going to complain.

“Maybe not more than _anything_ ,” said Shiro, because Pidge also appreciated honesty. “But right now, I sure want it a lot. Sir.”

Pidge laughed, a little huff of hot air across Shiro’s face. “Good answer,” she said, grabbing his cock a little lower along the shaft, to position it right. “Just for that, I’ll give it to you.” Her fingertips collected some of the wetness of the tip, his foreskin bunching up under her fingertips. 

“Th-thank you,” Shiro said, and his head fell back, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. 

She sank down onto him, a slow, tight squeeze that made his eyes squeeze. She didn’t usually like this position - he ended up deeper inside of her than she was usual comfortable with. Evidently, she was in the mood for that now, though. 

Who was Shiro to look a gift horse in the mouth?

Shiro groaned, panting, and he made eye contact with Pidge. Her glasses were smudged, and her mouth was open, her tongue small and pink. He wanted to kiss her mouth - he contented himself with nuzzling into her neck, mouthing along at her jaw.

She shuddered around him, her fingers fisting in the fabric of the dress. “I’m going to rip your pretty dress, if you’re not careful,” she said, as she rose, just a bit, before falling back down onto his cock. 

Shiro could take a hint - he rolled his shoulders, and the dress’s fabric ripped. “Can I rub my clit, sir?” He pitched his voice up a little higher, and he moved his hands forward, to where their bodies were connected. Pidge threw her head back, the long column of her throat bared for Shiro. 

“I want you to come around my cock,” said Pidge, and then her head flopped forward again, and she bit him on the shoulder. 

_Bitey little gremlin_ , flashed through Shiro’s head, but he was grinning as he rubbed her clit with his thumb, his hips rolling just a bit. She was so soft inside, soft and smooth. It was like having his cock rubbed with hot velvet, only also wet, and... that wasn’t a very good simile. But still. Fuck. 

“Your cock is… it’s so big in me,” Shiro said. “Sir, please, keep fucking me.” 

“You sure? It’s not too big?” Pidge’s arms were wrapped around Shiro’s shoulders, squeezing them tightly. Her mouth kept moving from his shoulder to his neck to his face. He was going to have some weird, interesting bruises to explain. 

“No, it’s not too big, sir. I think I can just take it,” Shiro said, and he gave a particularly enthusiastic hip wiggle, which nearly knocked her off, rolling her clit under his thumb.

She stiffened against him, and her pussy clamped down on him. Her teeth were digging into his neck now, right under his jaw, and her hips were beginning to full on _bounce_ , forcing his thumb to move faster on her clit.

They stayed like that - his hips shifting against her, his thumb on her clit - for a little while. He was staring at her microwave, but her last experiment had knocked something loose, and it didn’t show the time anymore, just constantly blinked twelve at whoever was looking at them. It blinked and blinked, as he fucked up into her, as he inched her closer and closer to orgasm with every twitch of his thumb. 

She did something especially clever with her kegel muscles, and e moaned, right by her ear. His throat vibrating against her teeth, and she made some kind of delighted noise, and yanked at the collar of the dress, to get more access to his neck. The dress ripped some more, and he almost sobbed at the cool air across his back, over his collarbone. He rubbed her faster, as the heat building in his own gut began to reach a crescendo. “Sir, please,” she whispered, “I can feel that you’re about to come. I can… are you going to come in me, sir?”

“I’m going to fill you up,” Pidge said, and she was only shaking a little bit as she bore down on him. Was she trying not to laugh? Was she close to coming? Judging by the way she was clenching around him, and her fingers digging into him… probably. She could be remarkably stoic about her orgasms, but Shiro had learned to read the tell-tale signs.

He rolled her clit under the pad of his thumb like the ball of a mouse, and she sobbed into his neck and went utterly stiff, her cunt pulsing around him. There was a gush of wetness, some of it escaping around the place where their bodies were joined, and it mixed with the sweat that was slickening their chests, their thighs. 

Shiro held on to her hip with his prosthetic, and he began to thrust up into her, quick, sharp jabs. She clutched at his shoulders, but she was nibbling along his jaw now, pausing now and then to bite a different part of him - his cheek, the tendon along his neck, the meaty part of his shoulder. The began to suck a bruise into the spot under his earlobe, and the pleasure in his gut broke like a bone. He made a soft, broken noise as his orgasm washed over him, wave after wave of it pulsing across his nerves, out of his cock. He held her tightly to him, filling her up, and then he went slack, flopping back into the couch. 

“Wow,” said Pidge, and he knew, somehow, that she was back to herself. “That was intense.”

“Did you just want me to shred this?” Shiro plucked at the dress, which was ripped at the shoulders and the neck. 

“Among other things,” Pidge said cheerfully. “Next time, I think I’ll have you on the floor, though.”

“You are _such_ a little pervert, you know that?” He gave her a tired grin, and he cupped her cheek with the hand he’d been rubbing her clit with. His thumb was still musky, and he left a sticky trail on her cheekbone.

Pidge wrinkled her nose, but kissed his palm. “Are you complaining?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, no, sir,” said Shiro, putting on his best coy voice. “Nothing like that.”

Pidge’s grin broadened. “I thought not,” she said, and she kissed his palm again.


End file.
